


Journey

by thealpacalypse



Category: Twelfth Grade (or Whatever) (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, Healing, Nature, otp: livdependence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:12:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7717825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealpacalypse/pseuds/thealpacalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liv goes for a hike. It's self-care and taking control and falling in love with herself and with nature all in once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journey

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently emo about two things:  
> 1\. Liv Belcik  
> 2\. leaving New Zealand and its magical places and its dreaming hills and its waters that feel like home
> 
> and then I saw [this picture](http://thealpacalypse.tumblr.com/post/148663418216/banshy-untitled-zachary-martgan) on tumblr and I spontaneously had to fic it. 
> 
> Liv makes me want to write surreal healing poetry and I won't apologize for it.

Liv breathes in the cold morning air.

 

Liv breathes out.

 

Her breath is visible, but only just so, and on the hills in the distance she can see snow – and yet she’s not cold. She’s many things in this moment: Thoughtful. Calm. A little tired maybe, but in a pleasant way. Grounded. Balanced.

 

Happy.

 

But not cold.

 

The lake in front of her is as clear and smooth as glass, it almost seems like a window. Maybe it leads to another dimension, Liv thinks. The thought makes her smile.

 

There’s fog hanging in the trees on the other side of the lake, morning dew clings to the grass at her feet, a solitary bird sings his strange song. Everything about this place is magical.

 

She takes it all in, the scenery, the moment, trying to capture it. She knows when she’s going to be back in the real world, this memory is going to be her sanctuary, the thing she will cling to when everything gets too overwhelming.

 

So she writes it down in her head:

 

The way the half-frozen earth crunches under her hiking boots. The way the sun paints golden shapes on the hills whenever it breaks out of the clouds long enough. The smell of nature, that indescribable mixture of cold and moss and clear water and all the invisible things as well.

 

Most of all: Her happiness.

 

She holds onto it with all her senses, feels it all the way to her fingertips.

 

In a couple of days, she will have to return to her life. And it won’t be easy, and sometimes it will be very hard, but here she collects all the strength she’s going to need.

 

Here, she’s on her own, a small organism in a big cosmos. (She remembers what she once learned, that _cosmos_ is just another word for _order_ and _purpose_ , the opposite of _chaos_.)

 

Here, nothing matters but the next step.

 

And then the next.

 

The path.

 

The forest.

 

The hills.

 

And on the other side of the hills, more steps.

 

She’s on her own. She’s happy.

 

She’s on a journey.

 

 


End file.
